


Don't Go

by WearyBones



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: But genetically female, Drama, F/M, Kinks, M/M, Multi, Other, Romance, Sex, Size Difference, body image issues, cursing, dirty talking, gender fluid, gets progressively more kinky, public
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 13:59:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19111102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WearyBones/pseuds/WearyBones
Summary: He couldn’t stop that wide grin as he heard their heart racing a mile a minute. Honestly, Tiny had expected them to keep on walking, to exude fear when they saw him and try to avoid him. He was going over millions of plans, ways to get them to stop, to introduce himself without completely terrifying them.Of course, the only reason he didn’t just outright kidnap them was because that was a lot harder in this world, with all its cameras and technology.---A certain tired, gender neutral lounge worker gets dragged out of a bad breakup into an amazing rebound romp. What they don't expect is that the rebound is going to drag them into more than they ever thought they'd have to deal with in their lifetime.





	Don't Go

They were polite, just about always. But that didn’t mean they were always all that friendly. Sure, they put on a friendly face, a smile, a laugh, a gentle word. However, to anyone who cared enough to pay enough attention, one could easily pick out the slightly patronizing, almost indulgent look in their eyes, as if they were a divine listening to the inane prattling of a mortal. It’s not that they meant to be snobbish, as they have been accused of being, or anything of the sort really. They just didn’t have the energy to listen to others' problems and preachings. And when you work nights in a lounge like this one, that was about 40% of all you got. 

The other 60% was lewd remarks, nicknames or demands for service, and not always the kind of service they were supposed to give. 

Of course, it was all brushed off with a laugh, a joke, a flirt. They let it all roll off of them in waves, their back straight and their eyes ahead, gathering plates and listening to small requests to pass on to the servers. They were lucky that most of their time was spent washing dishes (and that they were allowed to wear slacks, even if they were just a bit too snug around the ass). They were also lucky their boss was fairly nice. A bit quiet and scary looking, but that just helped them in the long run.

A flame elemental burning a deep purple, a white scar like mark over his left eye, wearing a pin striped dress shirt and slacks. He looked like someone out of a Scarface catalogue. Apparently he was one of a number of flame elementals, all brothers or cousins or something, all of whom ran shops of one kind or another. Scar ran a tight ship, not taking shit from anyone and keeping patrons and employees both in line. Patrons were a fair mix of humans and monsters, usually, and tensions were only a little tight even after all these years since monsters were released from some curse underground.

As far as they knew, everyone called their boss Scar, not just for the mark over his eye, but because he had no qualms scarring people who fucked around in his lounge, most of them being of the kind too deep in shit to go to the police or even a hospital. Most people knew not to get too rough with them, too, seeing as they’d once come to the back nearly in tears, their shoulder bruised and run right into him, begging not to be fired for smacking the guy who’d tried to drag them to the bathroom.

He hadn’t said a word, just disappeared out the back door with the man, and they never saw the guy again.

Didn’t stop some of the patrons from copping (somewhat gentler) feels of their ass and thighs sometimes. But they weren’t afraid to smack their hands away by now either, pretending to laugh it off.

Tonight was one of the usual nights; carry the tray with dishes to the back, snapping “playfully” at the guys who slipped their tips into their pockets or dropped them on the floor trying to get them to bend over on their way there, and then trying not to dunk their head in the sink and scream. Because it wasn’t really a normal night. The memories were creeping back up, little things bringing back his voice. His words. His every soft and tender promise.

It made something black and ugly twist painfully in their chest.

But at least the back was empty for the most part that night, and they had some time to themself as they washed. They could faintly see a familiar glow from under the door to Scar’s office a small ways away, his burning self brighter than the dim light he seemed to prefer. They’d caught him stopping now and then to listen to them on those nights they had the kitchen to themself at the end of the night, so they knew he wouldn’t mind if they indulged in the acoustics a little.

\-----

He hated these nights.

The thunder roiled and rumbled in the night sky, making him feel like the bones of his vertebrae were prickling with awareness, wariness. And so he’d often turn to his one and only real friend who’d stuck by his side since the days when those rumbles weren’t some harmless noises in the sky, but a threat of boulders and crumbling mountains, ready to fall on the heads of everyone you’d ever known or loved.

Hazy red eyelights lifted from the desk, his thick fingers drumming heavy and slow on the hardwood as he eyed his old friend, the elemental looking back at him with a knowing gaze. Scar tilted his head in a silent cue for him to talk, swirling the amber liquid in his tumbler. Tiny groaned and sighed, leaning back his head as he rubbed the back of his neck. “*s’just th’thunda. y’know how i get.”

Now, while his name might be Tiny, he was anything but. Nearly 8 feet, and thick as a redwood (he always snickered at the analogy), he was intimidating as all fuck and he knew it. And it was ridiculous that he was terrified of a little weather.

Scar huffed a soft sound, his flames crackling as he shrugged one shoulder in what Tiny interpreted as understanding, the large skeleton tossing back his drink and holding up his cup for more. The glass nearly slipped from his fingers when a crash of thunder rolled, shaking the building, making him hiss and his eyelights blow wide. He was lost in the triggering sound when he felt Scar’s hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention to the elemental’s face. Scar was holding up a finger to his mouth, barely visible in his flames, and nodded to the door. Tiny furrowed his bony brow. Was he being kicked out?

But then he heard it.

A soft hum like noise, lilting and melodic, dipping and swerving in a graceful way. Tiny slowly came back from the tense, hazy place he’d gone, standing and moving to the door with Scar, leaning his considerable weight against it, sockets squinting just the slightest as he focused his hearing.

“Don’t you remember  
how you used to say,  
You’d always love me,  
in the same old way.  
But now its very strange,  
that you should ever change…”

His eyes closed, thunder drowning out and turning to a low, rhythmic beat in his mind as he listened. That voice dipped and warbled in a way he hadn’t heard in a long time, trembling like the old, bluesy women he used to hear crooning through a gramophone back home, in a time so long ago, at least according to this place. It was tugging at his soul in a way he’d never felt before.

“Sometimes I think,  
Someone has won your heart  
Tempted you away.  
But even if we’re miles apart,  
Don’t forget, some day,  
My darling…

After you’ve gone,  
and left me crying  
After you've gone  
There’s no denyin’.  
You’ll feel blue,  
You’ll feel sad.  
You’ve missed the bestest pal,  
You’ve ever had…”

He turned his eyelights on Scar as he listened, head tilted in question. The elemental twisted the control on his blinds, letting him get a peek at the kitchen where they stood, elbows deep in suds and warm water, eyes half closed as they trilled away. To think a human was making that kinda sound, he’d expected… well, not a Shyren, but something along those lines. That voice honestly sounded like something from an old radio.

And them. He couldn’t stop the way his eyelights roamed over them.

He felt like he was starved, missing something he’d never had.

They looked damn soft, the clothes looking too tight, uncomfortable, making it obvious that Their hips and thighs were damn thick, their chest looking soft and padded but nearly flat, something off but not unpleasant about the shape. 

Tiny turned again to Scar, pausing a moment as he saw the flame monster’s eyes closed, head tilted, expression relaxed. “*ain’ seen ‘em aroun’ b’fore. they’s new?” Scar shook his head as he finally opened his eyes, Tiny nodding in return. Then that meant they were just back here more often than not. Their voice wilted away on a sad note that dragged his eyelights back over, noticing the far away look on their face, taking note of it with a sharp gaze. They were getting ready to leave, putting everything away in its place for the night and grabbing an umbrella.

Tiny turned to Scar one last time, handing him the glass. “*thanks fer the drink, grillbs. see y’round.” And he blinked out of the room without a trace, leaving the elemental to sigh. Scar gave them one last look through the glass, seeing them look back and catch him, smiling gently in that way of their and giving a wave. He nodded in return, unable to hold back his own small smile before closing the blinds.

He had a feeling those smiles wouldn’t be reserved for him any more.

\----

They stepped outside into the cool of the stormy night, turning their face up to the sky as thunder rolled, smiling softly at the sound. It was a wild and primal sound they’d loved since they were a child. In the days when they were just as wild, carefree and naive, they would run through the puddles and dance to the thunder like it was a party, waking up miserably sick the next day every damn time.

Adjusting their scarf, they lifted the bright red umbrella over their head, loving the bright contrast against the black and grey day. They were just stepping off the curb when another spot of red caught their eye, dragging their gaze over, eyes widening in surprise. They’d seen some big monsters in their days, but.

Holy fuckin’ moly.

That’s a b i g b o y.

In black slacks, a red shirt and black tie, a coat over his shoulder, the sleeves empty as he did his best to hide under the coat instead of in it, fedora dipped low and soaked. They could get only a peak of the bony structure of his jaw, his breath huffing out in a long cloud of perspiration, tinged a deep red. He was half under the awning of the lounge but it was tiny, leaving his coat and shirt completely drenched, the poor guy. As far as they’d seen, monsters were all fairly kind, and lessons had always pointed out that, even though some could be rough or even downright nasty, their cores were made from empathy and compassion. 

After a long moment, they made up their mind, walking over and stopping in front of him, standing on their toes to lift the umbrella high, expression neutral but only because they were nervous as all hell, making them put on their distant mask. His head lifted in surprise, sockets staring back at them with two red moons, his skeleton grin tugging at the corners.

There was a long, awkward silence.

“You’re getting soaked,” they finally murmured, pushing the umbrella a little more forward, trying to cover him. They nearly lost their footing, barely biting back an embarrassed curse. They froze, righted by his hand on the handle of the umbrella, just over their own hand. His grin had tugged even wider, shoulders hunching as he leaned down just enough to fit under the umbrella with them.

“*well ain’cha just a doll,” he purred in a voice made of sin and midnight and smoke. It sent heat curling through them from their belly and up their spine until even their fingertips felt like they were tingling, eyes wide. They just knew they were turning red in their cheeks, could feel their ears burning. “*y’gonna walk me home too, doll face?” They couldn’t place that accent, but stars be damned if it didn’t have them melting into a puddle right then and there.

They had never had that happen with just a voice before.

Hell, they’d never had it happen, period.

They realized they were staring, flushed even deeper and cleared their throat, biting their lower lip harshly to get themself to snap out of it. His knowing grin wasn’t helping things. “My name isn’t doll, or doll face.” They snapped it a little more sharply than they had intended, but his grin only spread more, and good stars above, he had dagger like teeth and… a gold tooth? “And really, if you’re needing an escort through the dark, scary night, I can oblige if you ask nicely.” Their heart rate slowed even as it did a little flip at the way he laughed, deep in his belly, making those shoulders shake.

“*well, then,” he drawled lazily, reaching up with one of those large hands, brushing it over a lock of Their hair, leaning in closer until they felt like the air around them would crush them from just how imposing his very presence was. “*wouldja please,” he rumbled as he took that lock of hair, pressing it gently to his mouth like some old world gesture from a knight to a royal, seeking favor. “*grace me wit’ yer presence on a lonely, cold night, an’ do me th’honor of walkin’ ya home?”

He couldn’t stop that wide grin as he heard their heart racing a mile a minute. Honestly, Tiny had expected them to keep on walking, to exude fear when they saw him and try to avoid him. He was going over millions of plans, ways to get them to stop, to introduce himself without completely terrifying them.

Of course, the only reason he didn’t just outright kidnap them was because that was a lot harder in this world, with all its cameras and technology. 

But the way they stopped, trying to look all nonchalant and grumpy as they did something kind that not many people would even consider or stop to think about… that just made him feel a little bit bad about the thought. Just a little. But it also made him see them in an even brighter light than he already had before. And damn if he couldn’t hear and smell what he was doing to them, making him daydream about every way he could try and convince them to come home with him. At this point, the alley behind the lounge was looking damn good.

Maybe he could hike them up against a wall, get those pretty thighs around his head and over his shoulders and make them scream his name for everyone to hear as he went down on-

“-overboard, isn’t it?”

His eyes snapped back to their face, making their own lips curl with a little knowing grin, though there was something in their eyes that made him feel a little bad. Like they were sorting him into the category of ‘just like any male’.

“I said ask nicely, not beg and plead. But if that’s what you’re into…” they chuckled softly, feeling braver with the attention he was giving them, turning to start heading back toward their apartment. “Besides, I thought I was walking you home, mister. Not the other way around.”

“*tiny, not mister,” he supplied, nearly tripping over his own feet as he lurched forward to keep up with them, plucking the umbrella out of their hand. Just the tiniest brush of his fingers across theirs had shivers running up his bones. Tiny chalked it down to anticipation. He smiled wide at their incredulous look, laughing that wonderful belly laugh again. “*yeah, yeah. the uh… th’family, they’re fond o’ puns an’ irony.” He grinned wide. “*s’a small family flaw.”

It took them a moment, but then they were laughing, trying to cover their mouth. God they hated that, it wasn’t even that funny. It was only because they were so nervous and giddy. Damnit. “Well, maybe they aren’t being all that ironic.” They sent him a glance, and he saw it, the way they ran their eyes over him for a minute. He was both excited and offended, in a way that had him near growling. Meanwhile, they were immediately guilty over the words, not sure what came over them. But the words were said, and stubbornly they turned to look ahead and keep walking.

“*more’n happy t’prove that thought wrong.”

The way it was said, in a low, raspy, half snarl of a sound. That was what stopped them more than the words. Stars, he might as well have just tugged their panties off right then and there, cause they were sure that voice had ruined them all on its own. They were under his shoulder, looking up at him like he’d just offered to serve them the world on a platter, excitement curling in them like they had never felt before.

They weren’t easy. They were well behaved. They wouldn’t sleep with someone they barely knew. 

Seriously, they were still… well, technically a virgin.

For… reasons, they had never been with anyone physically. It was why their last relationship, a relationship of more than two years, had been ended. They had already broken their innocence with a toy when they were a little younger, not trusting that pain and humiliation to someone else. No, they weren’t a trusting person, especially in that. So to even contemplate their first time with some stranger, only a few months after their break up, out in public…

…

Their heart rate picked up and they tossed those thoughts out the window. They had done their time. Waited. Been good. There was no fairy tale prince to give their mind, soul and body to forever without ever needing anyone else. So why not take pleasure where they could get it? And why not have an experience like that with someone as delicious as the male in front of them?

“Guess you’re going to have to, now, ‘cause I’m not gonna believe you otherwise.”

They weren’t expecting to have the world tilt around them so suddenly, the sidewalk disappearing and replaced by the massive monster they’d been walking beside, their back scraped by a rough brick wall. His large hands were on their hips, hefting them up against that wall as if they were a rag doll, weightless, feet off the ground. The umbrella was already shut and leaning against the wall, his hard thigh pressing between their softer thighs to force them open as their hands tangled in his shirt.

“*y’real good at rilin’ a monsta up, doll. y’sure yer tall enough fer this ride?” He chuckled low, a hand already inching up the side of their shirt, the rough texture of his palm sending a spider web of shivers all the way through them. He stopped entirely when he felt how much they were trembling, worried he’d scared them with his eagerness, waiting for their verdict, their go ahead.

“Please,” they managed to whisper out, breathless, shaking with a nervous excitement as they felt their blood turn to a slow, molten lava, their heartbeat in their ears. “Don’t… don’t go easy on me.” They needed it. They almost hoped he wouldn’t be as good as they were already sure he’d be, make it so they both had a good enough time and went their separate ways without a backwards glance.

But from the way those crimson moons in his sockets seemed to burn brighter, they had a feeling they’d be looking back on this night a lot.

Tiny could barely keep still after they said it, excitement surging through him, making him light up like a football stadium, his hands running over every soft inch of skin he discovered under that tight shirt, watching them twitch and squirm as if his touch burned. But the cute, kitten like noises they were making let him know they were very much enjoying every bit of it, his grin spreading wide, flashing that bear trap maw of his. The way they trembled so sweetly for his touch was intoxicating, and the way they were looking at him, right in the eyes, like he was the only male in the world…

He rested them on his propped up knee, one hand on their hip as his other hand struggled with his belt, freeing himself and yanking their clothes down and out of the way. They only got a quick glimpse of a crimson glow, the rain and the darkness melting into heat and sensation as he ground up against them. His fingertips, his cock, his breath on their neck and the wetness of his tongue taking a taste of their rain soaked skin. It was all too much already, burning them up.

Strong hands guided their legs up around his thick waist the best they could, their pants hanging on to one ankle just barely, their feet bracing on the backs of his hips as he lined himself up. The head was blunt, the rain and their slickness mixing as he pressed inside slowly. Just the tip had their head falling back, hissing at the burn and the stretch of it.

Definitely not tiny.

He was muttering something against their neck, a sharp nip making them jolt, hips bucking without their consent and making him curse as he sunk further into them. He couldn’t believe how tight they were, how slick they were just for him. Tiny felt like he was losing his mind. The danger of being out in public, the patter of rain on his back, the way the long tresses of hair framing their face stuck to their cheeks with wetness as those eyes gazed up at him from under heavy lids, lips parted with their needy breaths. He ran his hands up those soft, pale sides, shirt slipping up as it caught on his rough phalanges, revealing soft inch after soft inch for his exploration.

His claiming.

He was barely resisting the urge to press his fingers into that soft skin till he left his fingerprints bruised into it, showing anyone that dared to look under those clothes that this little doll was c l a i m e d.

He pushed away the warning bell that rose with that possessive thought.

Now, them? They were lost in the way the rough texture of his bony hands traced every dip and curve, almost forgetting their nerves as his hands slipped higher, hitting the bandages around their chest. They froze, a chill running through them, a curling, icy claw of doubt and regret slipping into their veins.

But then his hands moved lower instead, not seeming any less eager as he gripped their hips and pressed them up against the wall harder, rocking his hips slowly forward to sink yet another inch into them. That ice was chased away so quickly, it left their head spinning, a low moan pouring from their lips like thick, sugary molasses. He had been waiting for them to adjust to the massive girth of his shaft, the thickest part of him nowhere near inside yet, teasing their swollen, tender folds slowly for his invasion. His consideration was as comforting as it was delicious.

Their toes curling, chest heaving, they tugged at his sleeves, noticing with a sinfully guilty flood of heat that he was still fully clothed over them. “Stop teasing,” they bit out breathlessly. He chuckled, his cock sinking in just the smallest bit more, and they groaned with frustration. The big bastard was about to say something when they rolled their hips in a desperate move, feeling their walls clamp down hard at the new sensation of so much heat and thickness, head tossing back so hard it hit the wall a little painfully. The snarl that was ripped from him and the way he froze was worth it. “Fuck me,” they whined. “Please, please, just…!”

Feeling his hips slam forward, that large cock beating against their deepest nerves and stretching them to the point just between pleasure and pain tore a wail of pleasure from their deepest core. His right socket was empty, left flooding with a red, fiery blaze. His stare on their face would have had them feeling self conscious if it wasn’t for the way his hips were swinging, harsh, guttural grunts escaping every time the blunt head beat into their cervix.

His own thoughts were a jumble, controlled by the heavy throb and burn in his cock, unable to think straight as heat pooled in his lower belly, tightening into a coil threatening to snap at any moment. “*shit, pretty lil doll,” he rasped out softly, lowering his head to drag a thick, heavy tongue across their neck, relishing the way they shivered and mewled. “*gonna make me cum so fuckin’ fast… y’wan’ that? y’wan’ me cummin’ in yer pretty lil hole, baby doll?” He couldn’t drag his eyes away even as he took a gentle bite, careful of his teeth. The way they were bouncing from his rough thrusts, the little bump in their belly whenever he bottomed out, and the slick sheen of their lips, wet from the rain and their tongue…

He had to taste them.

His mouth crashed down over the small human’s, his mandible moving and the strange mix of bone and cartilage that made up his face shifting to move and work against those soft, warm lips. Gentle nips and tugs made them part, swallowing the growls pouring from his throat as his tongue invaded. It was too fucking sweet, too hot, too much. His hips lost their rhythm, stuttering and snapping into the softness clenching around his hardness with desperation. With a snarl he reached down between their writhing forms and found that sensitive bundle just above their entrance, the rough texture and fast, hard pace had them twitching and clamping tighter.

This time it was his turn to swallow their cry as their back arched, legs clenching around his hips as their entire body trembled through wave after wave of pleasure. The fluttering, throbbing tempo of those walls milked him, dragging him right along after a few hard thrusts, pulse after pulse of thick, viscuous heat filling up that small, sore space deep inside them and making them shudder with a primal kind of satisfaction.

There’s a long moment of breaths mixing and bodies being locked in a quivering, heaving knot, his hands on their hips and theirs on either side of his neck, foreheads pressed together as unseeing gazes locked in a mutual haze. They were flushed all the way from their chest to the tips of their ears, a look of giddy amusement starting up and they both started softly laughing when he tried to lower their legs from his hips, having to hold them upright as they wobbled dangerously.

They weren’t so sure it should feel quite so intimate, so familiar and… right. Not between strangers.

But their thoughts were broken by the sound of footsteps filtering through the now heavily pouring rain, a startled noise escaping their throat as they instinctively pushed closer to Tiny for protection. The move tugged his grin wider, and suddenly the world was condensing in around them, their ears popping and darkness taking them for a split second. When they blinked their eyes, shivering from the cold and a delicious soreness in places they had never known were capable of getting sore, they were greeted by an entirely new scene.

A bedroom, in cool greys, red and accented in white and black. It was simple, messy and very much to the taste of the male who had his hands on their ass, making them let out an embarrassing squeak. They smacked his chest lightly, making him laugh low in his chest and give that ass a good squeeze.

If it were anyone else, they’d have been exasperated, but the roughness tempered by… by care, it sent more heat through them.

“I thought we were going to my place,” they mumbled, pushing back their wet hair and looking up at him, blinking away the shock of the room’s light hitting their eyes.

Tiny choked on his words. Those eyes were almond and pale sunlit green, the tones bleeding from darker to lighter until they met cool blue-grey rings. Gold and wine shimmered in their hair, a thick streak of silver he hadn’t noticed before mixed into both sides of their deep brown locks, the front left in long wild tresses and the back cut almost scalp short. There was no way they were old enough to be going grey, making him curious, but he had to salvage the long silence he had already fallen into. “*heh, an’ get caught witcha pants down?”

They felt heat rise all over again, but this time in their face, noticing that their pants had fallen completely off now, shirt still pushed up to their ribs, and they tugged it down roughly, shy and embarrassed as if he hadn’t just unloaded a copious amount of cum inside them. It made him laugh.

“Oh shut up,” they chuckled out, his laughter contagious.

They were just about to untangle themself from him when they felt him tug their arm gently, bringing their backside up against his once more hardened member, grinding into the small of their back with something that sounded close to a growl.

“*an’ where do ya think yer goin’? tha' quickie in th'alley s'gonna leave ya wit' a bad impression o'me, baby doll. m'a sixty minute man.”

Tiny’s rumbling laughter had them laughing along as he bent them over the bed, taking only a few easy moves to be buried back inside them. Laughter melted into moans and creaking bed springs, just as night melted into pre-dawn morning.

It had to be just before dawn when the arm that had been clamped around their tender waist loosened up enough for them to wiggle free, feeling soreness all over and a damp heat slowly pouring out of them. A strange, tingling, almost electric feel was pinging across their nerves and skin as they stretched, sighing softly. Just as they stood, they jumped at the feeling of those large fingers tracing over their lower back and the slope of their ass, Tiny’s voice a deep, gravelly sound laced with sleep and cracked with wear.

“*don’ go.”

They smiled, waiting until he drifted back off before finding their pants, grateful their shirt had been forgotten and left intact, the rough monster surprisingly intuitive to the discomfort they had shown when he tried to remove it. They dressed quickly, opened the door to take a peek outside and cringe at how long the hallway seemed. With a huff, they submitted to the walk of shame and went to the window, thanking the stars they were on the first floor and sneaking out, unaware of a few different night owl gazes they had caught.

They didn’t bother leaving a note, a number, even a name.

He knew where to find them if he wanted, and if he didn’t?

Well. They had a lifelong supply of fantasy material now, that was for sure.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok but, when I typed Tiny saying "don' go", all I could hear was a Cinema Sins 'DING!' and "roll Credits!".
> 
> Lets see if I can work up to the next chapter. Who's coming in next?


End file.
